


How the Wind Got it's Voice

by Gypsywriter135



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-20 21:49:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gypsywriter135/pseuds/Gypsywriter135
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the screams of a distraught mother that the winds decided to echo. It only seemed fitting, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How the Wind Got it's Voice

**Author's Note:**

> Written in about 20 minutes because I actually have to leave but the plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone.
> 
> Enjoy feels of epic proportions.
> 
> Not proof-read or beta'd.

Mother was sitting contentedly in her favorite chair, one of Jack’s cloaks in her lap. She hummed softly as she let the needle flow around the tear in the fabric, deft fingers working it like they had millions of times before. With a son like Jack, she had gone through hundreds of thread and almost as many needles. How the boy had managed to make it to sixteen was a mystery.

 

Keeping shoes on the little troublemaker was enough more difficult, she mused as she spotted Jack’s abandoned pair sitting next to the fireplace.

 

The woman sighed happily, watching her husband bustle around the kitchen, smiling as he joked and laughed with his friends. She glanced out the window to check the sun.

 

 _They should be home by now,_ she thought, setting her sewing supplies down and heading to the window, drawing her shawl around her shoulders. The chill in the air had more bite than usual today, a sign that winter was truly on its arrival. She would have to send Jack into town tomorrow to gather some extra blankets for this season. Maybe Pippa could join him, giving her some time alone with her husband.

 

She immediately frowned when she saw Pippa stumbling through the snow, her hair falling in her face. Mother straightened, worrying her bottom lip, and made her way to the door, where she slipped on her shoes and headed outside.

 

“Pippa?” she called, rushing to meet her daughter.

 

“Mother!” the young girl cried, and it was then that Mother noticed the tear tracks on her face. “Mother, help! It’s–it’s Jack!”

 

Mother frowned, finally reaching her child and gathering her up in a hug. She knelt down and brushed the wet, sweaty strands of hair away from her deep brown eyes.

 

“What is it, Pippa?” she asked, holding the girl’s face in her hands. “What’s wrong with Jack? Did he get in trouble with Mr. West again?”

 

“He fell through the ice!” the small girl exclaimed, clutching to Mother desperately.

 

Mother stilled, eyes growing wide. She called frantically over her shoulder for her husband, and Father came rushing out, worried. Pippa was already tugging Mother in the direction of the lake, and when Mother was finally able to tell Father what was happening, the man raced forward.

 

The woman followed her husband and daughter, not caring for the branches that slapped in her face. She was breathing heavily, her breath catching in her throat at the thought of what she would find ahead.

 

The trio reached the lake in record time, and Father tentatively stepped forward, heading Pippa’s warning of the thin ice. Mother could see the abandoned skates in the center of the lake, lying next to a large stick sitting besides a gaping hole. Cracks in the ice radiated from the hole, and water sloshed lazily over the edge with the wind.

 

“Jack!” Mother called, hoping her son was just beyond her field of vision where she stood with Pippa at the water’s edge.

 

“Stay there!” Father commanded, holding a hand behind him as he cautiously approached the opening.

 

Mother held her breath, clinging to Pippa just as much as the child was clinging to her. She sucked in air when Father’s careful footsteps caused the cracks to expand and the man jumped back onto thicker ice.

 

“Jack?” he called, trying to crane his neck. “Son, you there?”

 

There was no answer. Mother felt her heart drop to her stomach, tears forming in her eyes. Pippa began to cry, trembling violently.

 

“Jackson? Answer me, son.”

 

When there was again only silence, Father dropped to his knees. He held his head in his hands, shoulders shaking with sobs.

 

“Maybe he got out,” Mother whispered. She fell to her knees as well. “Maybe he got out, maybe he’s just playing a trick.”

 

Father managed to pull himself up, making his way over to what was left of his family, his wife screaming in denial as Pippa rocked back and forth, a string of “No’s” chorusing from her mouth as tears ran down her face unchecked.

 

“He’s just playing a game!” Mother exclaimed, eyes wide. Father enveloped them in a hug, sticking his nose into Mother’s hair, getting it wet with his tears.  “Jackson, this isn’t funny! You get your butt out here right now!”

 

The only answer she got was the wind.

 

“He’s gone, love,” Father said, clutching her tighter.

 

“No!” Mother cried. “No! He’s not! Not my baby!” She began to struggle in Father’s arms. “My baby boy! Save my baby boy!”

 

“The ice is too thin!” Father tried to tell her. Mother was having none of it. “If any of us go out there, we’ll fall through too!”

 

“You have to save my baby!” Mother told him, trying to claw her away towards the ice. “Save my baby!”

 

“It’s no use!” Father told her, grabbing her upper arms and forcing her to look at him. “He’s…. he’s…”

 

Mother let out a chilling wail, lowering her head and gripping at her hair with her hands. Her screams and howls echoed through the clearing.

 

The cries of a distraught family did not reach the ears of the still figure floating below the ice.


End file.
